Astral Line
by Snooosh
Summary: A little remake of the ending of the anime, it will contain SPOILERS. CxR. Basically it should put a slightly more positive twist on the ending for those who thought it was a bit... unsatisfactory. COMPLETE
1. Pursue the Dream

Author's prattling:

Well I did write that I had more ideas, so here goes. This will be a two-shot (or a duology if you will) and it's gonna deal with the anime ending, so there are MAJOR spoilers ahead. I will write it in the same style as TCK, i.e. not interfering with anything which actually happens in the anime episodes, but merely expand on the already existing scenes, write new scenes, and see just how much I can tweak the ending without actually changing anything (well apart from some of the speech which I might alter a bit, but you can blame my strange subs for that). The story will be in the universe of TCK also, and the whole 'workings of creation' etc. explained there applies to this one as well, furthermore everything which happened in that story can be considered to have happened prior to this one.

And thanks a bunch to all you guys who reviewed TCK, it really got me motivated to write this and get it posted quickly.

* * *

Still the imaginary scene changer. The double line shifting from the real world to flashbacks/dreams etc. and back again. The single line indicating a scene switch within the general flashback.

Disclaimer: I own a vast amount of things but Chrno Crusade just ain't one of them. (grumbles, growls and grouches)

So... onward to the story.

* * *

Astral Line

By Shnoosh

Chapter 1- Pursue the Dream

* * *

He was tired.

Extremely tired.

Leaning wearily on the door to the crude wooden cottage.

He was weak.

So weak.

Barely able to keep his legs from buckling beneath his weight.

He was aching.

Aching awfully.

Trying to keep the pain doused by not moving a single muscle.

His body was beaten and broken.

But not due to any of the reasons he was used to.

It wasn't because of any physical stress, nor because he had overly exerted himself, not because he had been fighting multitudes of enemies, and not because of any disease, poison or injury he was trying to recover from. No, this was simply because he was...

_Old..._

This was the feeling of strength and vigor being sapped by age.

The feeling of his body wasting away as he died slowly

The feeling of irreversibility

Of inevitability.

It was ironic. He was in fact... extremely old, how old exactly was unknown to him, he might be a hundred years... maybe a thousand, not that it mattered anyway - but actually _growing_ old, which for humans came naturally with time, that... was something he had consciously chosen. The feeling had become evident over these last few months, and at first it wasn't really that bad...

A sore back in the morning.

A leg having problems waking up fully.

Exhaustion from doing mundane physical work.

Eventually it became worse though...

A constantly aching body.

Loss of motor skills in fingers, and limbs.

Shortness of breath for no reason at all.

But...

_I don't mind..._

He looked towards his contractor. She was sitting, rocking back and forth on the porch swing - his handiwork - enjoying the last rays of light, just the way she always did, just the way she loved. Her eyes were closed, and her lips were curled into a wonderful little smile, as she let the orange warmth of the setting sun caress her face. He could spend hours simply staring at her... and he did too... when she was cooking, when she was cleaning, when she was doing laundry, when she was sitting out here, when she was sleeping...

Yes, he had aged... not in appearance, but in strength, physical as well as spiritual. And yes, he had done it for her, so she could live just a little bit longer. He knew, that he would never stop draining her, but he could take the pain, this contract inflicted upon her, and redirect as much as humanly (or demonly) possible towards himself.

And he would gladly take more, he would gladly take any amount of hurt in the world, if it could lessen her pain by even a minuscule portion of what would be inflicted upon him. If it could prolong her life by even a fraction of a second.

No... He didn't mind being weak, old, aching, hurting.

He didn't mind it one single bit...

But...

_She must never know..._

The wound, which Aion had inflicted upon him in their final battle, sent a sharp stab through his back, and he suppressed a flinch.

That wound...

A curse and a blessing.

A curse, which sometimes would cause him pain, and sometimes would be bearable, sometimes he would be fighting not to crumble to the ground, and sometimes he would almost not feel it at all. But it would remain with him always, limiting his strength, making him even less physically fit, decreasing his ability to help with all the daily chores around their home...

_Home..._

Then she would do them, all of them if she had to, and it would make him feel guilty.

She should be resting... not working.

But he couldn't help noticing, how much she actually seemed to enjoy it, walking around the house at a leisurely pace with the broom in hand, sweeping dust and dirt away from the living room out on the porch, and further down onto the ground. Her eyes would be closed, her lips would form a little smile, the sun would illuminate her features, and she would hum a soft tune...

_GOD, she's beautiful..._

But the wound had been a blessing too.

He had sensed it so clearly after the fight with Aion. Her life had almost become depleted. She would only have about two months left... perhaps three, if he should stay alive and well. But she would have more than a year if he had just died then and there. She could have experienced another birthday... another Christmas... maybe Joshua would even manage to regain his memory in that time with her aid...

But she didn't want that.

She didn't want any of it.

So he did the second best thing he could do for her lifespan, and forced himself to live as far below his own survival level as possible.

He knew, that she would never knowingly allow him to become this weak, never deprive him of the astral, which his body screamed so desperately for right now. She would reprimand him, tell him that it was jake, that he should take care of himself, eventually start beating on him if she didn't notice an improvement in his condition (which of course would be ironic), maybe even threaten to release the seal if he still didn't get better, effectively blackmailing him into using more of her life. Yeah, she was so endlessly stubborn, and she would be determined to win the fight one way or the other. But, he had successfully convinced her that his deteriorating health was due only to that wound, and since it was inflicted by another demon he would be unable to heal it without transforming into his full form. He could much more easily convince her that she shouldn't release the seal and die for that alone.

_It's only a lie..._

A little white lie...

A lie which allowed her to live.

A lie, without which, she would have died months ago.

A lie which had extended the length of their dream to more than half a year now.

It was just not enough.

She deserved more... a decade... a century... a millennium of happiness, and if he could... only... give that to her he would do so, without hesitating a single moment.

But...

_I just... can't..._

He couldn't give.

He could only take.

So the best he could do was to take as little as possible.

And that was exactly what he had been doing.

For six months now...

X X X X X X X X X X X X

X X X X X X X X X X X X

"Chrno..." She tried to call out his name, as her demon partner fell to the ground, but she was so terribly weak. She had released the seal, so Chrno could fight Aion in his full form, and now her own body was simply too heavy for her to lift. She could barely breathe, much less scream, and the name she had tried to cry out had only escaped her lips as a whisper.

Chrno had fought Aion, and had used a lot of power doing it. The fight in itself had actually been extremely short, a one-strike one-kill type of battle, very similar to a duel between Japanese samurais. Chrno had used just enough of his power to dispatch of his nemesis in the shortest amount of time. Effectively he had minimized the total amount of astral that he needed to use, but the intensity had been so overwhelming for her, that she had no idea how she had even managed to stay conscious.

CLACK...

The clock snapped shut again and she began feeling the strength return slowly to her body. Chrno had reverted to sealed form, and was lying face-down thirty feet away from her. He was completely still.

She began to move towards him. Thirty feet of horizontal crawling, which felt like a mile long vertical climb...

She dropped down on the ground again, panting breathlessly...

"Chrno..." The whisper was a bit stronger than before, but moving was still a task which felt impossible to her.

With a surge of willpower she raised herself to her hands and knees once again, and continued the trek towards her apparently lifeless partner. Her movements were agonizingly slow and she repeatedly had to stop, gasping for oxygen, which her blood seemed virtually unable to absorb. But she would not let her own body stop her now, she would force it to keep moving.

She finally reached him. "Chrno." Her voice had become stronger, and she could now feel a bit more strength return to her. The demon lay in front of her, his jacket and his shirt were torn revealing a wicked slash across his back, which went diagonally from his left shoulder all the way to the right side of his waist. Crimson fluid was slowly bubbling out from the horrible gash, and she even thought she could see a hint of white bone through the red blood...

Rosette panicked.

"Chrno!" She tried to gently shake the wounded demon's shoulder, to get him to wake up, but he didn't respond.

With all her strength and a cry of exertion she turned the demon onto his back allowing her to see his face. His eyes were closed, his breathing was almost nonexistent, and his body was completely motionless.

"Chrno! Please wake up..."

She managed to sit up, wrapping her arms around her partner's back holding his limp upper body close, trying desperately to force the sides of the wound closer together, trying to shut it tight. Her hands were getting smeared in the sticky liquid of his life.

"Please don't..."

Then tears began to spring forth seemingly unable to stop. Droplets ran down her cheeks, and she gripped the sinner even tighter pressing him towards her chest...

"CHRNO!"

"Geez... Rosette..." He coughed. "that scream could... wake up... the dead..."

"Chrno!" It didn't stop her tears, not by a long shot, but her expression changed from misery to joy. "You're alive!"

"Yeah..." He coughed again, she could hear that he was very badly hurt. "Still..."

"What do you mean still? You're gonna be alright now! Aion's dead! There's nothing to worry about! You just need to get better!"

"I know..." Another cough, a bit of blood came out with this one. "But I will have to use... your life... and I've already... used so much... you have so little... left..." His voice was strained.

"SO? Just do it already!"

"But you... you will... live longer... if you just... let me... die... don't worry... I'll still... be here... to watch over... you..."

Now she was getting angry, just how bloody thick-headed could he allow himself to be? "But I don't want that! I don't want your spirit or whatever the hell you wanna call it watching over me! I want YOU to get better!"

Blood-red eyes widened a bit at her outburst. "But you can... live... longer... you can go... rejoin Joshua... that was what... this was all about... wasn't it?"

Her voice lowered. "Joshua is with the order now, right?" The question was answered with a small nod.

"That's good... they will take care of him..." She averted her gaze from his eyes, and spoke in a sad tone still holding him close. "He didn't... recognize me, Chrno..." Her eyes began to water and her words began to choke on repressed sobs. "I just... feel that... he's never... going to..." She immediately gripped him tighter. "I don't... think he... needs me anymore... Chrno..." She was now pressing the demon towards her, scared of letting him go, scared of being left alone.

The statement had caused Chrno's eyes to widen further, all this time she had cared for little else but finding her lost brother, always been so hopeful and optimistic about their future, and now she just...

But the demon also knew about Joshua's condition. Even after he had lost his... or rather Chrno's horns, the boy had still not been able to remember anything. Furthermore, his mind had stayed being that of a child - some form of defense by denial he had put up, to shield him from whatever memories would otherwise plague him, the sinner presumed. No, Rosette had outgrown Joshua by much more than just the four years, in which they had searched for him, and seeing him in this condition, knowing that he might not recover within her remaining lifetime, knowing that he might never recognize her as his beloved sister again, would only cause her more pain.

"Besides," Rosette said loosening her grip again and returning her eyes to his. "You made a promise! Remember?" Now she almost sounded like she was twelve years old again, it was really adorable, and he couldn't help but smile a bit.

"A... promise?" Honestly, he had no idea what it was.

"Yeah, you promised that when all this was over we would pursue our dreams."

Through the haze of his pain and past the water of her tears he could see the stare in the her eyes. A stare which unmistakably told him 'And I'll hold you to it'.

"I want to do that now. I want to live my dream. And my dream..." She blushed, and her voice quivered a bit, but her gaze was kept firmly locked on his. "It has... you... in it..." She immediately grasped the sinner tighter again burying her face in the crook of his neck. "Please... Chrno... don't leave me..."

The injured demon coughed again. "Are you really... sure about... this... Your life will be... so much... shorter." He still didn't want to heal himself, not until he was absolutely sure that this was what she wanted, and that she was sure of it herself.

"I know..." She smiled into his shoulder. "But I'd rather live a short life with you, than a long one without."

Wow!

Did she actually just... say that... about him? Of course he had always wished that he could stay with her, he loved her more than his demon mind could comprehend, and he would physically hurt by the mere thought of leaving her. But he would feel even worse for wanting to still be alive and feed off her soul, when there was no need for him anymore. Then again, he had always tried to convince himself, that she mostly needed him to help her find Joshua, maybe because it was easier for him to accept that idea, than to acknowledge the fact that she actually needed... him.

Slowly killing the one you love is a truly horrible feeling, especially when he or she wants nothing but for you to continue doing it.

But his own feelings could be damned, his own shame and guilt could go ahead and torture him mercilessly - it didn't matter.

This was about what _she _wanted, and nothing else mattered.

"Alright then..." He allowed his body to absorb more astral, the hands of the clock sped up slightly, and he could feel himself beginning to heal. He had become increasingly better at controlling his consumption rate over the years, and he could raise and lower it merely by focusing on it. Soon he would decrease it again however, there was absolutely no reason to use any more than necessary, and maybe not even that much. "But... I just _hate_... taking your life like this."

She turned to look directly at him. "DON'T... say that!" Her response was agitated to say the least. She couldn't stand it, when he began wallowing in this guilt of his. It hurt her too. "You're not taking ANYTHING! It's ME who's giving. There's a big difference."

He smiled meekly and tried to sit up. "I guess... if you say so..." She released her grasp.

As he sat up further, Rosette saw his back, and immediately uttered a startled yelp. The blood had ceased to flow from the wound, but it still looked ghastly, like infected scar tissue having been brutally slashed open.

"Chrno! Be careful! You're still hurt..." Her voice was again laced with fear... the fear of losing him.

"It's alright." He turned his head slightly and smiled at her. "It looks a lot worse than it feels. It will get better in time, but since it's a wound made by another high ranking demon, I can never heal it completely unless I change into my full form."

"So... do you need me to release the seal, so you can heal it?" She asked cautiously.

"NO! I can live with this. Some humans live with injuries for life, and so will I. I will _not_ have you release the seal for something so unimportant! In fact you're _never_ gonna release it again! Understand?"

Rosette was a bit taken aback by his reaction. The authority, he had just spoken with, clearly indicated that he was a lot older than her. A fact that his sealed form and easy going nature made her forget sometimes, and her response was sheepish. "Okay..." She raised herself to her knees and began to get up shakily. "Can you stand?"

"Yeah... but I might need a hand" He was given one immediately, and the pair stood up uneasily, leaning on each other.

"What about that?" He gestured towards the standard issue exorcist gun laying by the outcropping she had been sitting on when he first got here.

"Let's just leave it, it's not who we are anymore..."

Chrno couldn't help but look at her. Her eyes had already started to look towards the horizon, with that wonderfully hopeful gleam which nobody but her possessed. She was so determined... so ready to go forth into her future, to leave everything behind her, practically break every tie she had with the order... with all of her past... with everyone else... that thought made him realize something. "Oh, wait. We need these..." He let go of her, staggered over to where Aion's horns lay, and picked them up. He picked up his own along with them.

"Why? What do we need those for?" Rosette asked slightly confused, she would rather forget everything about this, and leave it all. She didn't need the memories those horns brought with them.

"Just wait and see, you're really gonna like this." He managed to put on a smirk as he made his way back to her again. That smirk always made her blush. It just seemed so diabolically devious and yet so innocently cute at the same time.

He stumbled and practically fell into her arms, when he reached her. His breathing was ragged and his muscles had tensed. Even though he had healed some of his injury, the wound was still severe. "Chrno... are you alright?" She had grasped him tightly, as if he would die should she drop him, and as she held his trembling form, she became aware of her own weariness too. If she didn't concentrate on keeping herself conscious, she could fall asleep any second, and fall would not be figuratively speaking.

"Yeah..." He pushed back a little, allowing him to look straight into the azure depths of his contractor's eyes - they seemed to regain color and life by the second. But she also looked extremely tired and worn out, and she would need him for support.

For a moment they stood in silence, with arms wrapped around each other, simply savoring the feel of the embrace, while blocking out the rest of existence.

Right now, there was nothing in the world but them.

Rosette brought her face nearer his, closing her eyes as well as the short distance separating their mouths. The kiss was not very deep, just the soft brush of slightly parted lips meeting each other in a gentle caress, with just a hint of moisture from the tongue. Just a slight taste, which ended after just a few seconds.

"Let's go... Chrno."

He nodded in agreement. With his right arm kept firmly locked around her waist to steady his own balance as much as hers, and her arm draped across his shoulders allowing her to lean on him, they began walking slowly out of Central Park. They both needed the support of the other to be able to walk, much like two adjacent cards in a card house needs to lean on each other to stand.

He turned to look at her. "So... this dream of yours... what's in it then..." And now he managed to smirk again. "That is... apart from me of course..."

She responded with a little smile. "Well... I'd really like a little house... nothing fancy though, just a nice home in a meadow in the country... where we can live in peace..."

He let out a small breath. "We'd better go find ourselves one of those then..."

"And I'd like for it to have a porch with a swing where I can sit and watch the sunset..." She closed her eyes as she started to envision how it could be like.

"Well, if the house we find doesn't already have one, I'll build one for you."

"You can do that?" Her eyes opened, and turned to look at him.

The cheerfully surprised tone in her voice had made him smile. "Sure." Now he simply _had _to make her a swing. "How hard can it be to use a hammer?"

"For you, or for someone who actually knows how to?" She replied mischievously.

Chrno stuck out his tongue, in a wonderfully childlike sign of contempt, that caused her to giggle, which in turn made her final stigmata hurt.

Rosette flinched and stopped, gripping her side and buckling over slightly. Instantly the sore demon muscles tensed around the teen's waist, in an effort to hold her steady, in case she might fall. She raised her head again giving him a strained look, which tried to tell him she was alright.

They kept still for a few moments, before slowly resuming their joined walk.

After a little while, Rosette spoke again. "So... what about you Chrno?" The question was asked with cautious curiosity.

"What about me?"

"Don't you... have a dream?"

"Hmmm... well I did... once... but I abandoned that a long time ago... and since... I guess I never really thought about my dreams again after that."

"Then... think about it now."

"Now?"

"Yeah like... who would be in it..." She really couldn't be fishing any more obviously, even if she was holding a 6 foot pole with string and hook attached to it.

"Okay... let's see..." The crimson eyes turned skywards and the demon seemed lost in thought. His face turned into a grimace of almost meditative brainwork, and even though he was obviously just teasing, he could sense how his contractor became increasingly annoyed with the way he purposefully dragged out his response. "Well..." He could almost envision how the vein in her forehead, which told him so much about her mood, had grown to almost double size by now, and he'd better answer before she decided to hit him. Rosette might be weary to the point of passing out, but he felt sure that no matter what, she could always summon the strength to give him a noogie. "You... for starters..."

Now the gold haired girl just couldn't keep her mouth shut anymore. "For starters?" Her expression was not entirely pleased.

"Aaaand..." Deciding that it was too soon to get physically hurt again, he quickly continued.

"That's it."

"That's it?" Her response was a bit relieved, even though it really shouldn't be - but also - he noted, surprised.

"Yeah... that's it." It was the honest truth he needed nothing else... literally.

"And... nothing else?" Her tone began started to become as happy as it had been surprised.

"Nope."

"Just me?" She couldn't get tired of hearing this.

"Yup."

"You really... don't want... anything else?"

"What can I say..." He shrugged lightly with his left shoulder, and smiled. "I guess... I'm just an easy demon to please."

"Oh, I don't know about that..." Her smile widened a bit and became playful. "But I think I'll manage..."

That made his smile widen a bit as well.

The two silhouettes slowly disappeared out of the park, leaning heavily on each other, taking their first unsteady steps together in the direction where the sun was setting and the dream beginning...

* * *

So that's it for the first part, seems like a decent place to stop, no attempted cliffhangers or nuthin... damn I'm getting soft.

The promise Chrno can't remember was actually something I made him... uhh promise in the train scene of TCK, it was a smaller thing back then, but of course Rosette is going to remember it.

So now, all you gotta do is review, easy right... go ahead, I promise (there it was again) you won't regret it :)


	2. Acknowledge the Past

Author's speech:

Ok so I lied, when I said this was going to be a fic with two chapters. It turns out that there will actually be three in the story, since it became longer than I had previously thought, and I wanted to chop it up. Furthermore I've stepped down the rating a notch since I really couldn't justify the T rating to myself.

If you've read the AN of the first chapter you already know all you need to know about 'scene switchers', and if you haven't read that AN... well then chances are that you won't read this one either hehe (hmmm... if you read the last sentence then it obviously wasn't addressed to you, and those it actually is addressed to isn't going to read it... I suppose that's what's called irony).

Anyways... Thanks a lot to everyone who has submitted reviews so far, they're everything that I own (uhh... disclaimer and review thanks in the same sentence).

* * *

Astral Line

By Shnoosh

Chapter 2 – Acknowledge that Past

* * *

"Do they still hurt? Your wounds?" The question was asked with a bit of nervousness and an obvious amount of concern, as they walked down the path.

"No..." The young saint let her eyes skim over the stigmata on her wrists. "Actually, now that you mention it. I haven't really felt them ever since Aion died." The marks were still there, but they seemed to be healing slowly. "In fact, they haven't bled even once since then, and I had almost forgot I even had them." Where there previously had been openings straight into her veins, small crusts were now forming, effectively stopping the slowly seeping of her blood. Still, they would probably leave some form of scar. Wonderful...

The demon let out a breath and visibly relaxed, he had postponed this question afraid of the answer he would get. "That's good." If her stigmata was still hurting, it could imply that she was still... required, and he didn't know how he would deal with that. The fact that she hadn't felt anything from them since Aion's death, could be taken as a sign that it was truly over. "It would seem that God doesn't demand more of you then." He shot her a smile, grabbed her hand, and gave it a little squeeze.

The ex-exorcist frowned. "Well, he'd better not. He owes me big time already, and I haven't even begun collecting on that debt yet."

That made him grin. "Heh... you're right about that."

They were walking down a path she knew all too well, the air was filled with the chirping sounds of various birds, signaling that winter had been pushed forcefully back by milder weather. It was a nice morning, with only a few white clouds splattered across a clear azure sky, as if someone had carelessly thrown a wad of cotton into the air after which it had simply stayed glued to the heavenly arch. The wind was calm, and the air was already getting quite warm under the rising sun.

Today was going to be hot.

Rosette was glad she only had on a white sleeveless blouse, a sky-colored skirt that went just below her knees, showing off the the honey beige stockings she wore underneath, and a pair of light blue T bar shoes with just a tiny heel. She still walked a bit awkwardly, being used to flat soled heavy boots, but it was nice that her feet were allowed to breathe, and apart from the obvious temperature concern this was probably the most fashionable summer outfit she had ever worn. It almost made her feel like one of those keen flappers, well... except for the bobbed hair, she never could quite understand that hairstyle, and it certainly wasn't one she would ever adopt. Chrno walked a bit ahead of her, leading the way even though she knew exactly where they were headed. He was in his usual attire with the red coat which to her seemed way too heavy for the warm spring day it would be, but apparently he was comfortable in those clothes regardless of the weather.

Making their way through a hole in the barbed wire fence and into the 'no trespassing' zone proved to be a bit more arduous than it would have been in her now obsolete militia outfit, and she had to remove her shoes while taking care that her skirt wouldn't get torn. They had strayed from the path, but that didn't really matter, since the plant life around here had completely overgrown everything - a result of an extended time of nonattendance. Larger shrubs had appeared randomly a number of places over the course of years, and it almost made it look like a wilderness. Looming just ahead of them, marring the countryside as a strange futuristic metal building having been placed wrongfully in both time and space, was the large dome encasing the orphanage of Seventh Bell.

"So, now that we're here, do you mind telling me what we're actually doing here," she inquired. She had already decided to let the past be the past, and she really didn't want to see the frightened, frozen face of her first home.

"As a matter of fact I do," he replied with his characteristic smirk.

The usually late-sleeping Rosette had been remarkably awake this morning, and when he had asked if they should take a countryside stroll, she had considered it the perfect opportunity to try out her new clothes. After getting a lift, Rosette had realized just where they were going, but she didn't get a straight answer when asking why. In a rare occurrence of agreeable morning spirits, presumably resulting from the nice weather, she had decided to indulge her partner a little longer. But now the former nun was really losing her patience with the teasing demon, and she wavered her fist at him menacingly. "Listen, either you're telling me now willingly, or I'm gonna be forced to make you."

Chrno didn't answer, but simply went over to push the button controlling the door.

The large steel plates slid aside with the characteristic grinding sound of gears in need of oil.

"Chrno!" Rosette couldn't stand being ignored like this, and the only thing stopping her from beating the obnoxious demon into a quivering pulp right now, was the fact that she was almost dying of curiosity as to what he was planning, and he couldn't very well do it if he had to be hospitalized.

"The reason I don't want to tell you, Rosette." He went back to her still smiling and with a glint in his eye. "Is because I want to _show _you."

"Show me WHAT?" Now she noticed the horns in his hand. They had once been protruding from the head of Aion, and Chrno had insisted on bringing them along after he had killed said demon in one-on-one combat. Chrno's horns possessed the power to freeze time, the result of which could be seen in the horrifying stasis everything within the dome was kept in, and logically the horns of another strong demon, like Aion, should have powers also.

Other powers...

Powers like...

Rosettes jaw dropped almost an inch... and then another. Her eyes began to water, as realization slowly dawned on the disbelieving youth. "Those horns... can they... can you really...?" She didn't even dare to formulate the question, afraid that she might have gotten the wrong idea.

Chrno smiled reassuringly. "Grab my hand, Rosette. This might get a bit... windy."

She immediately complied, and clutched his hand as forcefully as she could, staring straight at the sinner as he turned his gaze towards the darkness inside of the metal construction, while bringing the horns up in front of his face. He closed his eyes, a low muttering of unintelligible sounds halfway between growls and whispers began to emit from somewhere within his body, and his expression indicated that he was lost in concentration.

The horns slowly started to glow red.

Then the wind picked up its pace. Not from any particular direction, but swirling in an ever increasing spherical current around them. The trees and bushes swayed as the air continuously sped up, and small pieces of debris began to fly around them in almost perfect circles, enveloping them in an aura of rapidly spinning rubble. The world seemed to change its hue as the wind dyed it in the distinct red color mimicking the glowing horns in Chrno's hand. Rosette's hair and skirt flowed frantically, and she gripped her partner's arm with both of her hands and moved closer to him, afraid that she might get picked up by the gale and blown away. But she also saw how, all the trees, which were bent at unnaturally large angles, didn't break, the detritus which flew so dangerously close to them had been lying loose on the ground already, and the globular tornado-like wind kept it at the same distance all the time. The demon stood rock solid on the ground chanting the almost inaudible spell without using as much as a single muscle to steady himself. His clothes were only dancing lightly, and he looked completely lost in thought - almost placid - as the tempest of colored air roared deafeningly around them. Chrno was the eye of the storm and as long as she was close to him she was safe.

Crimson eyes opened, focused and aimed.

The sinner shot his hand forward in a punch-like motion, and in that instant all the debris plummeted straight to the ground, while the wind seemed to find a destination. It sought straight into the horns held in Chrno's right hand, and continued in a line directed by his arm and his eyes.

Rosette saw how the inner walls of the dome began glowing faintly red as the jet of condensed air blasted straight for the small tower of the orphanage. The moment it hit, a quickly expanding shock wave burst forth spherically, and the tower began falling down.

Then the entire inside of the dome erupted in a massive explosion of revived time.

Whole segments of the orphanage began collapsing as the structure could not hold against the pull of gravity, wooden boards flew through the air continuing on a path they had started over four years ago, and frightened screams of children and grown-up alike filled the sound spectrum, as all of the inhabitants of Seventh Bell ran and fell over each other in the attempt to get away from a Joshua who was nowhere nearby. The panic and confusion was complete, and nobody within the dome had any idea what was going on.

A small droplet trickled down Rosette's left cheek, as she saw the frantic spectacle unfold before her unbelieving eyes. All this time, her motivation had been to get her brother back and get revenge for what Aion had done to her life, and everyone she cared about. Never had she considered the possibility that the very same demon, had held the power to set everything right again.

Chrno fell down to one knee, seemingly drained, and Rosette immediately dropped down too, embracing him in her arms.

"Chrno, are you alright?"

"Yeah..." He heaved. "Channeling another... demon's power... is just more exhausting... than I had thought..." He was panting heavily and had to gasp for oxygen in between words.

Rosette held the used up demon, pulling his head close to her chest. The screaming sound of chaos turned her gaze towards the disordered orphanage again, where she could just barely make out that a pile of prone people were beginning to form outside the collapsing wooden building. One voice could be heard above the others however, and it was coming closer.

"AAAAAAAAHHHH... HELP... HE'S A MONSTER... HEEEEEELP!"

_Billy_, she thought and stood up lifting the feeble sinner up with her. "Chrno c'mon we can't let them see us." She started scurrying along the outer wall, still dragging Chrno along, in order to avoid the open door and the fleeing boy who was bound to come out of it shortly. The sinner tried to walk on his own, but the strength had not yet returned to his body.

Getting down to hide behind a bush Rosette switched her attention towards the entrance once again.

"AAAAAAAHHHHHHH..." Billy came dashing out of the dome with legs flailing almost as wildly as his arms...

Then he became silent...

Then he stopped...

Rosette couldn't help but giggle through her tears at the absolute perplexity the young boy displayed. When he had been frozen, it had been winter, it had been evening or night, and he had been trying to escape anarchy and mortal danger.

Now...

He was greeted by the singing of birds on a very peaceful and bright sunny spring morning, with butterflies fluttering in the air and hardly a single breeze disturbing the complete tranquility of this rural paradise.

Billy's mind had just landed on the moon, and according to his expression it had not noticed getting there.

The bewildered boy turned around apprehensively to see just where he had come from, and his mouth reopened when the large edifice came into his view.

"AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH..." Turning around once again, he fled the metal anomaly, climbed the fence with an unnatural quickness, and disappeared in a random direction while letting out an impressive amount of noisy air from his lungs.

Shortly thereafter the rest of the orphanage cautiously stepped out into the sunlight, walking in a tight group frightened and clinging to each other.

"Where are we, miss Jean?"

"What happened to Joshua, miss Jean?"

"Are we dead, miss Jean?"

"Is this heaven, miss Jean?"

The hail of questions rained down on the poor proprietress of the orphanage, and she simply answered by embracing as many of them as she could.

"It's going to be alright children... It's going to be alright..." The woman knew no more than the children, and she was as confused as any of them. Still she found the strength to act calm and soothing to the kids she loved more than her own life.

Rosette was on her knees watching from behind the bush, but even if she wanted to stand up, her body simply couldn't at this moment. Her hands were covering her mouth which refused to stay closed, droplet of water kept forming in the corners of her glittering eyes running down the reddened cheeks, and sounds ranging everywhere from laughs to sobs forced their way out of her in an endless stream of happiness too baffled to be expressed orderly. Seeing her first real home and family brought to life again so suddenly, years after she had written everyone off as dead and gone, was mercilessly bombarding her with too many emotions to name, and her overworked mind kept telling her that this was a dream, that she would wake up soon.

Then an arm coming from behind wrapped around her waist. A real arm, which she instantly grasped with both of her hands, bringing the hand of the demon up to cover her mouth before she would start to swallow bugs.

"Do you want to go to them?"

Rosette responded by shaking her head violently from side to side, as she still couldn't articulate anything resembling a spoken language.

Chrno sat down behind the ex nun with one leg on either side of her, wrapped his other arm around her waist (which was apprehended by her as quickly as the first one), and pulled her back to lean on his chest. Rosette immediately stretched out her legs and let herself fall back into the embrace of the demon, with her eyes still fixed on the inhabitants of Seventh Bell who were now calming down a bit.

"I..." Her sentence was chopped up by crying. "I just... want to... watch them... a bit more... if that's ok..." She wiped her eyes and nose as her body slowly came under her own control again.

"Of course it is," he replied and placed a kiss where her shoulder met her neck. He was rewarded with a hand reaching up and beginning to fondle his ear.

"They look so... happy. Don't you think, Chrno?"

A deep 'mmm' was his response. Rosette stroking his ear was something which could send him into a stupor of comfort.

"They're really going to be alright now aren't they?"

"Yeah..." Chrno managed. "The freeze... is gone... for good..."

"You know, you could still have told me before..." Rosette stopped her 'aurical' ministrations, in order to get a less shredded sentence in response.

"And deprive myself of seeing you this happily surprised? Never!"

The former demon exorcist smiled, she had to admit that this had been quite a... surprise. She was also beginning to comprehend now that the kids she knew from her childhood were going to live again. "Oh, Chrno... We need to tell the order somehow, we can't just leave everyone like this, without letting them know what has happened..."

"Already taken care of. I sent the order a letter which should be arriving in a day or two, basically telling them to investigate the Seventh Bell Orphanage. I didn't know if you wanted to meet everyone again and tell them about the time freeze yourself, so I decided to think a bit ahead, and let you decide when the time came."

"But when..." Rosette turned her head backwards to look at him.

"When you were sleeping," he responded with a smile.

Her glossy eyes locked with the gentle warmth of his fiery gaze, which bored into her heart and immediately set it ablaze. _I love you... _She had resumed her affectionate caress of his ear, earning her a deep croon of pleasure from his chest.

"Kiss me..."

He did.

X X X X X X X X X X X X

Slosh... slosh... slosh...

The sound of splashing water echoed through the underground tunnel.

Rosette had now taken off both her shoes and stockings, not wanting to ruin her fancy new clothes with the murky liquid they were walking through. She was a bit behind Chrno who walked purposefully through the shallow stream. He hadn't said a word for some time now, and his expression was somber. He held a bouquet of wild flowers, which made him resemble a boy going on his first date, and she couldn't help but smile at the ridiculousness of that thought, even though she knew the reason for the flowers was more serious.

They stopped at the large stone door.

Chrno bowed his head.

"Are you ok?" Rosette really couldn't take this silence anymore.

"It just... brings back back a lot of memories..." He answered softly. "Some of them good... and some of them bad..." Placing his hand on the door he pushed it open, and the heavy stone portal yielded, revealing the dry tomb, in which the demon had kept himself imprisoned for more than half a century.

They entered slowly.

"But..." Rosette continued, not wanting to revert to oppressive situation of not speaking. "Don't you think she has forgiven you?"

He smiled a bit. "I know she has..." he turned to look at his contractor and grasped her hand. "In fact she never blamed me..."

Walking slowly towards the stone coffin, Rosette felt the peculiar sensation that he wasn't just speaking about Magdalene. "Then... you shouldn't blame yourself either... I think... it makes her sad too..."

"I know..." He placed the small bouquet he had gathered on top of the lid. "It's just... hard..."

Rosette didn't answer. She understood. She understood and she hated it. She hated that he had to feel this guilty about himself, she hated that she knew just how deep this guilt would hurt, and she hated that she didn't know what to do to alleviate it for him.

Chrno went and placed the horns he had just used to unfreeze the orphanage in the niche above the coffin. "There... maybe spending some years in this tomb will do him some good... same as it did for me..."

"But... I don't understand... isn't Aion dead?"

"Perhaps..." Chrno went back to his contractor giving her an encouraging smile. "Perhaps not..." He came to stand beside her again. "But in any case it's nothing we should worry about." He gently grabbed her wrist with his right hand, turning it so her palm faced upwards, and softly traced his fingers of his other hand across the scab. The skin around the healing wound felt a bit itchy and sensitive, which made his touch tickle, although not in an entirely uncomfortable way. Chrno turned towards the coffin again letting his right hand grasp her left and placing his other on Magdalene's final resting place.

"Do you miss her...?" The question was a bit hesitant.

"Sometimes..." He replied truthfully. "She became a lot to me in a very short time." His gaze dropped again. "But mostly... I feel sad for her."

"How come?"

"She never had any future. The fact that I was going to... take her life was predestined, probably before she was even born. She knew that. She knew it all and she had already accepted it. I don't think she ever truly hoped... for anything... in her life, except getting to know her killer."

Rosette felt a lump rise in her throat. She had primarily considered Magdalene a rival for Chrno's love, and never thought about the actual person behind the image. Hope... it was such an incredibly strong feeling for Rosette. Ever since she was a little kid, ever since her parents died, she had used hope to go on living. It had driven her forward whenever the future looked grim, it had made her decisive and determined when action was called for, and it had been fueled by the demon who had been her strength ever since she met him. To not posses any hope at all... not because of a wounded spirit, but simply due to the cursed knowledge of foresight... Rosette could not imagine how such a person could even go on living. The tragedy of such a sealed fate combined with the hopelessness of realizing that fighting against it would be impossible... it made the former nun ashamed of her own feelings.

"But, I actually think..." The sinner continued while raising his gaze, appearing to look through the wall. "I gave her something she didn't expect... just as she gave me something I had never dreamed of."

Rosette gave his hand a squeeze, and said a bit more lightly. "But... don't you think... that if what you gave her made her happy then it would outweigh everything else?"

"Perhaps..." He squeezed her hand in a return gesture. "You always look at the bright side of things don't you?"

She shot him a little smile. "I have to, otherwise you'd be brooding all the time."

"You're probably right..."

They stood for some time without speaking, paying respect to the deceased saint. The silence which previously had been so uncomfortable, now held a trace of understanding. Even though nothing had actually changed about this visit, and Chrno still had the melancholic expression in his eyes, something had moved a little bit inside both of them. Something had switched a bit from the realm of suppression to the realm of acceptance. Something was a bit closer to make peace with them.

After a while Rosette spoke again. "I think, I'm gonna go back outside now, it's still sunny and warm."

"Uhm... I'd kinda like to stay a bit more, if you don't mind." He spoke as if wanting a favor he didn't quite dare to ask for.

Rosette rolled her eyes in a teasing manner "Sure, if you want to spend the sunniest day so far this year inside I won't stop you." She continued in a more hushed and affectionate tone, letting her hand gently touch his cheek. "Take as long as you need, I'll just be waiting for you outside."

With that the honey-blonde turned around, and began walking out of the tomb with her shoes and stockings in hand. Before she left the dusky room, she shot a glance back at the demon who had reverted his gaze back to the coffin, seemingly lost in his thoughts. A demon shown clearly by the uncontrollable fierceness of his passion or his wrath whenever either was roused. But a demon, who contrary to his race's natural affinity for violence and brutality possessed the gentleness and kindness rivaled by only a few. A demon who would gladly give everything just for her to be happy. A demon who, even though it conflicted with the very essence of his being, loved her.

_Thank you Magdalene._

_Thank you for helping him become who he is._

_Thank you..._

_For loving him..._

Chrno heard the retreating splashes of water indicating that his contractor was heading out of the tomb. He would rejoin her shortly. Rosette was right... it would be a waste to spend a nice day like today inside.

Magdalene would agree on that also.

X X X X X X X X X X X X

X X X X X X X X X X X X

A feeling resembling barbed wire being dragged diagonally across his back, forced Chrno out of the memory, and he suppressed a cry. The wound had gotten worse recently, or rather... his body had become weaker, while the wound hadn't.

The sun would be setting soon, and they really should be going back inside, although Rosette would want to sit out here on the porch swing until the burning disk had disappeared entirely, taking the last rays of warmth with it, letting the sky turn from blue to indigo to... black. But summer had been replaced by fall, the evenings had become chillier, and she might catch a cold. In her weakened state even a mere cold could mean...

He couldn't bring himself to envision that.

In his eyes he would forever want to see the reckless, hotheaded, crazy girl who would stop at nothing to get her way. In his eyes he would forever want to see the caring, loving, beautiful woman who had dragged his life out of misery, and into her embrace. In his eyes he would forever want to see the radiant and lively spirit, who would triumph over the dark no matter the odds.

"Rosette..." The name which encompassed it all escaped his lips, partly because he wished to address her, and partly because he wanted to taste the sound of it with his tongue.

The eyes of the gold haired youth opened at the mention of her name, and she turned her head towards the door where the demon was standing. Seeing him over there made her smile, he was simply watching her from a distance, it was sweet... and silly. "Won't you come over here? It's warm and comfortable."

He smiled.

In his eyes he would forever...

want to see her...

live...

* * *

That was the second chapter. The anime ending lets us know that CxR unfreezes the orphanage and visits the tomb of Magdalene, but since it doesn't actually let us see it, I wanted to put these scenes in here as a flahback. I felt that this deserved a stand alone chapter, and not just an 'intro' to the last chapter, thus making this story a three chaptered fic. I decided to stick with those flashback scenes only however, because otherwise I could start writing a fic about the whole six months, which could go on forever, and this was primarily supposed to be a story concerning the ending itself.

So, thanks for reading, and if you're not terribly busy (hmm... why would you be when you're reading fanfics hehe), feel free to drop me a review.


	3. River of Souls

Author's pitiful whining:

Ok first of all sorry about the long update time, but I actually have a decent excuse (or so I believe). I will start by giving a word of advise to anyone reading this: If you ever happen to go out with a couple of friends and become completely and utterly wasted, you might, when you finally get home at six o'clock in the morning, feel a bit peckish. The sensible thing to do here is to drink a LOT of water and sleep on it. Do not – I repeat – DO NOT think that you can make ANY type of warm meal, like, say, cooking a bowl of pasta, and then believe that you can simply lie down shortly, while the pasta minds its own business boiling merrily away on your stove. THIS IS NOT A WISE COURSE OF ACTION! I cannot begin to explain the sheer amount of torture you will be exposing your poor nostrils to, when you wake up the following morning (or afternoon), and the stove is still on, the water is gone, and the pasta is charcoal. Due to the amount of small soot particles now currently in the air, your computer might even take damage, like the harddisk being unreadable, the motherboard going to hell etc. (yes this happened too). To make matters even better the sub-zero temperature inside my little abode, a necessary evil in order to freshen the air, gave me a wonderful cold which decided to infect my lungs as well. Having tried to change virtually every piece of hardware inside my computer (even the bloody wires), without being able to make it work again, it is a reasonable assumption that I will have to spend a good deal of cash to get it up and running again. Thus for the next month or so I will be drinking water for breakfast, looking at other people eat for lunch, and drive a steel spike through my head (in an attempt to disable the center of my brain responsible for making me feel hunger) for dinner. Of course this will make me unable to burn any more food in the near future... yay (Author _is_ trying to take the novel advice from Monty Python and look at the bright side of life... but the song merely ends up reminding him that he's not terribly proficient at whistling...)

In between my apartment smelling like I've torched my couch, my laughable excuse for health, and a treacherous computer trying to ruin me, I want to mention that I also managed to burn (I seem to to do that a lot) the nano transistor device I had constructed at university, and you just can't beat the feeling of having three weeks of intense work destroyed in less than half an hour... hooray! (this really didn't have anything to do with the late update but I felt it was right in the spirit with the rest of the whining)

Anyway enough of this nonsense, I'd better get on with the story.

Disclaimer: Nice... now you're just kicking somebody who's already lying down...

Before I forget (wallowing in my pit of pathetic self-pity and all that). Thanks to everyone who has already reviewed this little story, I hope you'll like the last chapter, and that you feel like reviewing this one too (Author could use a bit of cheering up).

* * *

Astral Line

By Shnoosh

Chapter 3 – River of Souls

* * *

In a meadow in the country is a tumble-down farmhouse.

Next to the once proud home is an equally ill-kept cottage, which perhaps housed servants at some time, and surrounding both is a rickety fence. The decayed wooden poles and the broken remains of boards which are supposed to link them together doesn't present much of a barrier anymore however. The grass has not been mowed in what appears to be years, indicating the same lack of maintenance as the rest of the estate. A simple earthen path, leading from the larger road downhill, past the fence and the towering red oak, up to the entrance of the house, seems to be the only sign of a connection to the rest of the world. The cottage is apparently without this type of access, but it might not have been necessary for the people who once lived there. During the past decade many have moved from rural to urban areas where the economic growth spawned jobs and wealth. The countryside is a forgotten part of the otherwise lively and fast-paced modern society, which has followed The Great War. It is a world where life remains the same as it was yesterday, where things move slowly if they move at all, and the sense of stagnation has driven many to seek elsewhere. But it is also a place of rest, where the hectic pace of prosperity doesn't cause new changes before you have adapted to the old, where one can live without being disturbed by outside influences, if one wishes so. Abandoned homes are not unusual around here, and the worn down building, which once was the pulsating heart of an active farm, is the desolate proof of that.

But these past six months that very heart has beaten again, these past six months this old husk has housed life within its weary walls, these past six months this disheveled residence has been inhabited by a demon sinner and his young female contractor.

"Beautiful... isn't it?" The words are tired, escaping her lips almost like a sigh.

"I really like the view from here..." Her eyes wanders across the scenery – from the large perennial tree casting long shadows in the golden evening sun – to the calm waters of the streams snaking across the landscape, shining with reflected light like gleaming arteries delivering moist nourishment to the wetland soil – before she finally allows her gaze to settle on the descending flame in the sky which nurtures everything in its warmth. "I want to watch it... forever." She is speaking to the purple haired demon standing at the entrance of their home.

Chrno lets out a small breath, as he moves away from the door and goes to sit down next to the youth on the porch swing. The chains clatters lightly with the movement, as Rosette scoots a bit over to allow room for him next to her. The demon sits down and leans his head backwards, closing his eyes.

She casts him a worried glance. He is so... used. His posture is slumped, showing the loss of strength in his body. Large black lines beneath his eyes makes him look like he lacks sleep – she knows this can't be the case. His breathing is labored, and he moves as if he is in pain – she knows that he is.

The fire in him... is dying. Slowly extinguishing. She can feel it.

Felt it for a long... time...

"Hey."

Time...

"Hmm?" His eyes opens wearily.

Time is fuel for the fire...

"Shall I release the seal?"

Time is healing the injured...

"Then Chrno... you can heal that wound?"

Time is his life...

Her head drops slightly forward. "You can be healthy."

Time is her love.

Her right hand moves to the clock in a gesture almost asking for permission.

The hand is covered by the sinner's. "Its alright, this... is important to me." Rosette has been asking this question more and more often lately. "I don't want to lose anymore."

Dull red orbs barely glowing with their remaining warmth meets with pale blue pools almost too tired to express the compassion within them. A brief look telling more than words can ever hope to passes between fading eyes.

Birds singing blends with chirping crickets in a sonata of receding day, celebrating the setting sun, as it emblazons the evening in a dimming glow of orange hues.

Her hand covers his.

"You know... I sometimes thought 'I wonder how everyone is.'"

"Yeah." He isn't surprised. Even though Rosette would convey death threats regularly to the people at the convent, she really cared about everyone around her – with the possible exception of sister Kate, even though at some point that seemed to change.

"But now..." She almost sounds relieved, as she allows her eyes to close and her head to fall back, letting in the feeling of a soft breeze caressing her face and playing with her hair. "I think it's better with just the two of us." A wooden cart can be heard as it crosses one of the many small bridges, which provides passage across the streams. The farmer is on his way home after a long days work in the field, getting the last of this years harvest into the barn, before enjoying a well deserved rest. The grand light of day moves further towards the horizon, the color deepens to scarlet, and the calm waters of the nearby lake glisten as the gentle rays bounce off the surface and into the onlooking azure eyes, in which tears now gather.

A single nightingale begins performing a canto, its melodious hymn rising above and uniting with the background choir of tiny and small animals and insects – a concert of nature accompanied by a spectacle of glittering colors...

Like fireworks refusing to darken.

A droplet trickles down her left cheek.

"When we were alone... there was a lot I wanted to talk about." Her voice seems longing.

"But... the words just won't come out." Her head drops in defeat, and she lets out a little sniffle. The droplet leaves her chin and lands on the face of the clock. The clock which has always symbolized her hope... and her despair. The ticking has always reminded her of him. It has always reassured her of his closeness to her, that he will keep being there for her, supporting her, caring about her, loving her... In a way, it reminds her... of life.

But it's all she can do to hide her other feelings. When she first realized the dire consequences of the contract she hid those feelings with the warmth of his presence. She hid them from all of her friends so she wouldn't worry them, and they wouldn't begin to pity her. She hid them from herself so she could look ahead with the hope of a better future.

But most of all she hid them from...

"Let's go back inside. You should lie down some more." It's an almost pleading attempt to change the subject, a request for her to calm down, to not use her strength by being sad, to not cry...

Guilt.

Guilt felt through his words. All these years, and it still hasn't left him, it still consumes him, hurting him more than anything else ever has, more than anything else ever could.

"It's just..."

Why...? With all the countless foes they've faced, everything they've been through. Of all the things that has caused him pain, why does it have to be _her,_ which causes him the most.

"I know..."

If she can only keep these feelings to herself she can at least die without making it any worse.

"but..."

She just isn't... strong... enough...

Her teeth clench and her body shudders. "I am... scared..." The words come out as a whimpering whisper, afraid to be spoken... afraid of reaching his ears.

But they will not be held back any longer.

"I'm scared!"

Her hand grips his tighter as her tears begin to flow.

"I don't want to die!"

In a single motion the girl crashes into the demon, clutching his right hand with her left, burrowing her face in his chest, locking her right arm around him. She's desperately seeking his warmth again, the same way she did as a twelve year old girl, who despite her recklessness and brash behavior, was a little unsure of herself, a little scared of the dark. That warmth always brought her to a place of safety, where she was protected from everything whether it was real or imaginary. And now she is searching for that place again.

"I want... to live more..." _With you..._

She is hoping that somehow his warmth will keep the cold clutches of death at bay. That she can sink into its gentle embrace.

"I want to live..." _With you..._

The sun descends further, turning the world from scarlet to magenta, as the light yields to the dark and the shadows around the two embracing figures lengthen. Rosette burrows deeper into the arms of her demon as she cries for her life, the life she now realize how much she wants, the life she now knows will never be hers.

Chrno tightens his hold on the girl, as the silent evening fills with the sounds of her sorrow, every sob sending jagged spears of pain through his heart.

_Dear God... _

His contractor, his Rosette, who has always been so strong and joyful, is falling apart right in front of him. He is witnessing the most precious of flowers withering, the most beautiful of gems shattering. He is witnessing his one true love shriveling in spirit as well as body.

_what have I done..._

And it's all because of him.

"Rosette!" _I'm sorry... Oh God... I'm... so... sorry..._

Because he couldn't let go, because he selfishly stayed with her, because he didn't refuse the contract.

_If only..._

_**Tick...**_

Because he became important to her.

_If only you never..._

_**Tick...**_

Because he made her need him

_loved me..._

_**Tick...**_

Because she came to love him, he crushed her life, her future, and her happiness.

_then I would never have hurt you like this._

_**Tick...**_

Rosette turns her eyes towards the sun which is already halfway below the horizon."Chrno..." She's suddenly become so tired, and her words are an endlessly soft whisper. There are lots of things she could tell him, a lot of things she wants to tell him.

_Please... Rosette... don't... I know..._

_**Tick...**_

But she just can't say it now.

_**Tick...**_

_I know..._

_**Tick...**_

It simply wouldn't be fair... to him.

_**Tick...**_

_and I'm sorry..._

_**Tick...**_

There's only one thing she can tell him now which she feels will not cause him further pain, only one thing which has any chance of easing his guilt, only one thing which she will allow herself to say even though she wants to say so much more...

_**Tick...**_

"Thank you..."

_**Tick...**_

Her hand clasps his tighter, trying in a single gesture to convey to him everything she feels... compassion... respect... love... gratitude...

_But... why... Rosette..._

_**Tick...**_

You don't thank somebody for taking something away from you. You don't thank somebody for stealing...

_**Tick...**_

No... you thank somebody... when they give you something...

_Why...?_

_**Tick...**_

Because everything he has taken.

_**Tick...**_

Because all he has supposedly stolen.

_**Tick...**_

Because time...

_**Tick...**_

is worthless.

_**Tick...**_

In itself it is nothing but a endless stream of insignificance, ticking away in artificial amounts dubbed seconds, minutes, hours, aeons...

_**Tick...**_

Only when you reach out to others, only when you make use of your time, only when you accomplish something – even the smallest thing – then it becomes something more.

_**Tick...**_

To smile takes less than a second, but its effect can linger long after in the heart of others.

_**Tick...**_

A perfect day, where everything seems right, can make four long years of hardships and toil worthwhile.

_**Tick...**_

And to spend just a second together with the one you love can make decades of fighting, struggling and enduring seem like such a minute speck in your memory, that you hardly believe it is even part of the same life.

_**Tick...**_

That is when existence touches you, letting you know that something is meaningful, that something is important.

_**Tick...**_

That is when time stops being an endless dreary current flowing towards nothing.

_**Tick...**_

That is when it condenses... into a moment.

_**Tick...**_

_If only I had known..._

Like pearls on a string, large and small, black and white, good and bad, but all of them holding something of worth within them.

_**Tick...**_

_I would have..._

And then the demon does something no other demon before him has ever done.

_**Tick...**_

_Please... _

He prays.

_Please dear God don't... take her away..._

_**Tick...**_

_I only want..._

In truth he doesn't really know what he wants, except that it involves a golden haired girl, smiling... and laughing, and he knows that he can make that happen if only...

_**Tock.**_

That very girl lets out a tiny breath, as the sun sets.

_**A string of life breaks.**_

She never even turned eighteen.

_**Little pearls fall from the string, and ethereal hands grab out frantically, trying to catch them... any of them, before they disappear through the grate of oblivion below. But they all elude the desperate fingers, one by one they vanish from sight through holes too small for the hands to follow, swallowed by an impenetrable blackness.**_

Chrno feels his contractor become limp.

_**A human soul cries in desperation.**_

The breathing...

_**Not wanting to lose everything.**_

the heartbeat...

_**Not wanting to become cold and empty.**_

the life...

_**To become nothing.**_

everything ceased so suddenly.

_**But... something is still here, lying close by shining with a gentle warm glow.**_

Torn from the body.

_**It is clutched immediately, and held tight.**_

Ripped away.

_**A single pearl.**_

Taken away.

_**The one that was too large to fall through the grate.**_

Away from him.

And then the sinner visibly crumbles. Sitting alone in the twilight of approaching night, his body is wracked with spasms of despair, his eyes fill painfully, and his throat voices sounds so pitiful that any demon would wince in embarrassed disgust upon hearing them. But it doesn't matter, nothing matters anymore. All he ever wanted is gone, all he ever cared for is dead. All he ever lived for...

_Lived for..._

Yeah, that's right.

There's nothing for him here.

He promised...

He would go as well.

And, if nothing else, he can at least be a man of his word.

The wound springs open, or at least it feels like it. His aching muscles begin to hurt even worse now, like they're being consumed. Without a source of astral he won't survive for long now, he has already depleted his reserves, and his body is now eating itself in order to try and live. It's a painful way to die, but it's the only way for him.

With a muffled grunt he lifts the empty shell of his former contractor into a sitting position.

Her hand still clutches his, and she's smiling peacefully, like she's dreaming a pleasant dream.

He will reach out and grasp that hand.

He will see that smile again.

He will share that dream.

He will scour the afterlife, high and low.

He will claw his way out of the depths of hell, and perform a divine breaking-and-entering if that's what it takes.

No matter what.

He _will_ find her.

He allows the girl's head to rest against his, as he closes his eyes waiting for the inevitable.

Waiting...

No, too slow.

The wound starts to mend itself, as he forces his astral out of his vital organs and into the destroyed tissue on his back. He has indeed been able to heal these past six months, he has only refrained from doing so. Now his consumption rate soars with suicidal effort, and he almost starts to shine in the darkness as the life painfully seeps out through his pores. His body screams in agony, begging him to stop, to try and live just a little longer. With every ounce of willpower he fights off the most basic of instincts.

Eyes shut tightly. _Ro–sette..._

He is fighting the instinct which forces you to flinch and retract your hand from scalding water, and would instead allow his whole arm to soak until the flesh is boiled and the skin peels off.

_Please..._

He is fighting the instinct which makes you draw in and clutch an open wound, instead he would stretch out, letting the crimson liquid spill from inside of him.

Teeth grind. _Wait..._

He is fighting the instinct that makes you cough when accidentally breathing smoke, instead he would deeply inhale the black soot making it smear out and cake the inner walls of his lungs.

Air crackles. _For..._

He is purposefully and recklessly hurrying towards his own death and his body is desperately trying to convince him to halt the onrush.

But it pleas in vain, he almost can't hear it anymore.

_Me..._

Astral pours freely from him in luminescent waves.

_I'm..._

His consciousness descends into darkness.

_Coming..._

He's still holding her hand,

_Wait..._

Resting his head against hers.

_Rose..._

And he manages to smile.

X X X X X X X X X X X X

X X X X X X X X X X X X

It's a rainy evening in the heart of New York. The streets are almost empty, partly because of the weather, and partly because people generally have little reason for going out. A sole car passes by, splashing up water from the puddles onto the empty sidewalk. A pair of blue eyes follow the vehicle from a window on the third floor of a building next to the road. The blond man, to which they belong, lets out a little sigh, running his hand through his hair lazily. The apartment is nice, but not grand. It is decently, though not extravagantly, furnished, having two bedrooms, an adequate kitchen, a small dining room and a living room where he usually spends his spare time. A few years ago that time was more likely to be spent outside of the apartment, but the money doesn't really allow for him to do that anymore, as is the situation for most other middle-class people. Instead he now reads a lot – an inexpensive pastime activity, of which he has always been quite fond. The oaken bookshelf in the living room is filled with lots of different books ranging from fictional literature to famous scientific works, and it even holds a few major religious scripts containing various Vatican-approved prophecies. A few years ago the last category would probably have occupied most of the shelf-space, but at some point he lost most of his faith in them – not his confidence in their validity, only his faith. Just as many other people have lost their faith, whether spiritual devotions, wishes for the future, trust in the economy, or simply the belief in their fellow humans. A few years ago he would have preached hope and courage into the hearts of those people, trying to inspire optimism where none was found, but he is just not the same man he was back then, just as the world is not the same.

It all happened so fast. In fact, it took less than a week, with one black day following the other: Thursday the 24th of October 1929 came the death throes, followed by a Monday where the stock market literally died. The following Tuesday it was sealed in a casket from which there would be no return, the single blackest day in the history of modern finance. The riots from the religious uprisings half a year earlier flamed up anew with unmatched ferocity, as people who had lost everything in a matter of days went mad in frustration and despair. Kings became beggars, wealth became poverty, joy became rage, and the world burned.

Ewan walks away from the window, and goes to sit down in the chair by the dining table, while making a quick mental note that he should probably put all the books, which have found their way here, back in the shelf.

_The war is going to end: but if people do not cease offending God, a worse one will break out during the Pontificate of Pious XI._

The second prophecy of Fatima is in one of the books, and it is well known to him. Ewan knows better than to take everything within a prophecy literal, but this particular part of it is something he just can't shake, something within him feels its truth, and the world shows the symptoms already.

The riots were only the beginning.

Germany, the so called Weimar Republic, has been devastated. In the early twenties the country went through a time of hyperinflation – a period of pure lunacy, resulting from the fragile economy following the war, where salaries needed to be paid by the hour and spent as quickly as possible before the money became worthless. Nobody had any wealth during that time, because in less than a month it would worth less than a thousandth of its former value. Only massive loans enabled the country to stabilize itself and enjoy relative normal conditions in the second half of the decade.

And then the crash came.

The United States could no longer give any support to the frail country, which had lived in borrowed security for six years. The Weimar Republic was given 90 days to repay every loan to its benefactor turned bankrupt debt collector, and without any other world power able to provide any form of backup, the country plunged into its former abyss. Unemployment has risen from a few hundred thousands to several millions, and it continues to soar. Frail hopes built up over a few years have been shattered. It's like watching a man plummet to the ground from a high building: everybody knows what will happen, nobody has the power to stop it.

The Weimar Republic is doomed, its people, desperately trying to flee from the anarchy still fresh in their memory, look to the extremes for solutions, and the outermost flanks in politics gain from this, while the moderate parties lose power. The communists have benefited some, but the true victor is a previously diminutive organization known as The National Socialist German Workers Party, commonly abbreviated as the 'Nazi' party. A loud group, with a charismatic speaker as its head. They preach. They promise a better life for everyone. They say they will eliminate unemployment, bring wealth to the people, and rid the country of the corruption which has brought it to its knees. They speak of returning to former glory, of recognition in the world. They speak of things many dare not even believe. They speak of hope...

In a few years they have gone from being virtually invisible to becoming the second largest political power in the country.

They even have their own private 'army', called the Storm Division. Uneducated hooligans and thugs doing little more than harass and beat up whomever they feel like, with the main targets being ethnic minorities and people voting for diametrically opposed parties. Mafia methods sowing fear in people, in order for a country to believe in its future.

The former minister shakes his head, desperate times indeed make humans seek desperate measures.

Yes a storm... a war is brewing, and it will surely touch every part of the world. The prophecy has told him that much.

Outside the rain finally shows signs of retreating.

He should make dinner soon, Joshua must be getting hungry as well. Speaking of which... Ewan's eyes turn towards the stack of papers on the table, neatly stapled together in order for them to be readable like a regular book. The front page displays the words 'The Fantastic Voyage'.

He smiles. It's been a while since he has read Joshua's little writing project. It ended up being a fairly childish adventure story, but it holds a spark of innocent hope. It must have come out of the shelf along with the other books.

Ewan picks up the various literary works, and goes towards the living room to put them back in the shelf. Sitting on the couch, deeply immersed in his drawing, is the author of the homemade novel. After having finished his writing endeavor, the youth returned his attention to the visual arts once again, and the blond ex-militia has to admit that Joshua has actually become quite good at it. In time he can most likely make a living as a painter – if any living is still left to be made, he adds with a mental sigh.

"What're you drawing?" The former priest asks casually while putting the books back in the shelf.

Joshua, having not noticed any other persons in the room until now, immediately turns the page and utters a not very convincing response. "Uhh... nothing... just, you know, some landscape motives."

"That's nice." The older man answers, although he did manage to catch a glimpse of the drawing. It showed the face of a certain lilac haired Magdalene sister, obviously drawn from memory, and definitely not portraying her unflatteringly. He grins a bit inwardly at the youth's reaction, he still acts younger than he is, probably having evolved to around fourteen in his mind by now. But if forever being four years younger in mind than body is the only lasting effect from his incarceration by Aion, he is actually better off than what could have been feared. "I'll prepare some dinner then." He looks out the window where the rain has now stopped completely. "It actually looks like it's going to be a pretty clear night after all, what do you say we take a little trip to Central Park after we eat?"

"Oh..." The blond apostle can't really hide his enthusiasm. "Does that mean that we're going to go see the astral line?"

"I believe so, I've felt that it's very close by, and tonight should be very good I suspect."

"I'd really like that."

"Ok... you can just go ahead and finish up your drawing, I'll see what I can cook up for dinner." Ewan turns towards the kitchen. He doesn't really know why, maybe it's a side effect of having lived with Chrno's horns for four years, maybe it's because he's an apostle, maybe it's a bit of both, but ever since then, Joshua has actually been able to sense the astral line, literally seeing it, something Ewan had thought was reserved exclusively for seraphs.

X X X X X X X X X X X X

X X X X X X X X X X X X

Central Park is almost completely quiet, the air is damp and the ground mushy from the rain, which has effectively kept most people inside. The squishy sounds of footsteps reveal that not everybody is at home however, and someone gifted with night vision would have been able to see the two blond men walking slowly through the park. They pause and stop at a clear spot, the taller turns his face towards the sky.

"Is it there?" Asks the other.

"Hold on..." He appears to enter a trance, concentrating on something beyond the senses. Only a few seconds pass before he speaks again and points towards the southern sky. "There... I can see it now..." The younger looks in the indicated direction, and closes his eyes. For several minutes they stand completely motionless with their faces turned towards south. It appears to be a case of spiritual stargazing, which is not very far from the truth.

"Can you see it?" Ewan asks.

"Yeah... it's really bright, coming from over by the Empire State Building, and passing directly above us. It almost looks like a floating snake engulfed in bluish-green fire."

The fact that Joshua is indeed able to see this stream of life, never ceases to amaze him, and he can't help but wonder if he will lose the ability eventually. At least the youth will still have these memories, if that should ever happen.

Moments pass in silence, as the two friends stand in muted awe, simply watching with eyelids shut as the grand flow of astral writhes pleasantly across the sky, visible only to the inner eye as condensed northern lights. Even though Ewan has seen it a fair amount of times before, staring at it still gives him a sense of peace. That something so serene, so tranquil can exist beyond the reach of the squabbling and scheming of mortals and immortals alike. It is something unchangeable resting in its own gentle cyan glow...

_Huh...?_

His mind's eye widens...

What was that?

A... strand...?

A whole string of astral?

Yes... he only caught a glimpse but he is sure of it, he did see an intact string.

Something he has only seen a few times before, and only shortly too.

It is a truly heartwarming sign. A sign of an unfulfilled cause being so heartfelt, that it simply _has_ to be continued. A sign of a future being so wanted that it _must_ be pursued beyond death. A sign of a feeling being so craved that it simply has no choice but to be relived. It is a very palpable sign of the true strength held within a heart. He has seen this before, never aware of the true identity of the string, but knowing that the flawless purity of such a feeling is something which can make the world a better place. He has seen this before, and each time it would send a wave of reassurance through him, convincing him that at least one thing might still turn out right. He has seen this before... and he had almost forgotten what it felt like.

But never...

Ever...

Has he seen a string other than cyan.

And Never...

Has he even heard of the possibility of a string which is... red.

The sheer puzzlement of not understanding what he has just observed, is only surpassed by the amazement of having witnessed something, which he feels even the heavens themselves have failed to foresee. Maybe God holds a few jokers up his proverbial sleeve, letting one out every hundred years or so, just to keep the world an interesting place.

He now notices the string emerging to the surface again. It's not following the flow of the astral, something which is not only unusual, but also... curious. It's actually 'swimming' against the flow – why?

Then another one emerges, with great speed it rises to the surface of the glimmering stream behind the first, as if it's sneaking up on it. It brushes slightly against the red before quickly diving into the depths again, the red string immediately makes a u-turn following swiftly in the wake of the... what was the other one...?

Blue?

The color of saints?

And then revelation dawns on the former priest, not only who he's seeing, but also what they're doing. His brain simply stalls for several seconds in order to digest his astonishment... and then he begins laughing.

_Of all the ridiculous..._

He just can't help it.

_frivolous..._

Joshua notices how his friend and legal guardian has begun... giggling?

_silly things... in the world..._

"What's so funny?"

Suppressing the not very manly laughter Ewan simply replies. "Nothing... I just... thought about something funny."

"Oh... alright." The youth obviously hasn't seen the strands, or maybe he has without knowing their true meaning.

_Well... Chrno... I suppose you're 'it' now. _Ewan adds with a smile in his mind.

His mental gaze returns towards the stream, looking for those two little figments of enduring life. At first they are nowhere to be seen, maybe they're gone, or maybe they were just the workings of his own imagination... no... towards the horizon he manages to spot them again. Those, who do not match any of their surroundings. The blue has been caught now, or maybe it simply stopped 'running', either way they both seem to drift lazily in the flow, moving increasingly closer to one another. Then, in one fluent motion, they curl around each other, forming into the distinct shape of a double helix. Remington merely smiles a bit more at the implication, he's done being surprised.

As his vision follows the two joined spirits, one azure and one crimson strand, disappearing slowly into the depths of a softly shining river of souls, a single droplet manages to crawl out of his left eye... how long has it been since he last shed any tears?

Too long maybe.

_**Two beings. **_

He can almost sense them.

_**Sharing a dream in the present**_

"It really is... beautiful... don't you think, Ewan?"

_**a hope for the future**_

"Yeah..."

_**a feeling of eternity.**_

Not many things in this world can make angels cry.

_**Outside of time.**_

Beauty is one of them.

_**Inside a moment.**_

"It really is..."

**THE END

* * *

**

And that my dear reader is officially a wrap. This story uses the same spiritual explanations I made up for TCK, and things might be a bit clearer if you've already read that one. For those who haven't, and anyone interested here's the crash course of what Remington knows and observes:

A living being consist of four 'parts', a body, a mind, a heart, and a soul. When somebody dies, the body dies and the mind cease to function. The soul returns to the astral line, where it diffuses (dissolves even) in the stream. The consciousness is retained within the heart, which enters a spiritual state of 'post-life', much similar to a dream. This can be as good or bad as the feelings held within the heart, thus making people entirely in charge of the nature of their own afterlife, although I do suspect Aion's meddling has screwed this up royally. Sometimes though, the heart (if it has the strength and determination) refuses this afterlife, simply because there's is something within it which needs to live. The heart then follows the life (i.e. the soul) into the astral line, where it continues to fulfill its spiritual functions. This causes the soul to be 'protected' from the stream and 'survive' intact inside of it. The astral line is like a great generator of life where astral is renewed. A depleted but intact soul will thus be filled with life like a rechargeable battery, and when the time is right it can be sent to live again. This is a sort of self-induced reincarnation mechanism ('ordinary' reincarnation would require divine intervention and a pretty damn good reason). The reincarnated person will thus have the same heart and soul, but will live in a new body and with a new mind. The reason for Remington having never heard of a red strand (a soul composed of demon astral) in the stream, is simply because it's an impossibility as demon hearts can't hold the motivation to want to live again (wanna know why they can't and why Chrno apparently can? Read TCK :-) ). He recognizes Rosette however, but being a seraph you would suspect him of having passed the 'spiritual color coding 101' course. And as to what the ridiculous thing, which makes him laugh, is... well I believe that you can figure that out without my help.

That's it for explanations, and seeing as this is the last chapter I feel it's time for a few (or a lot of) words from the cast.

Rosette: So... we didn't die...?

Chrno: I kinda think we did... but then again we didn't... really... I think.

Remington: Ahem...

Rosette: Oh... I like that... I really don't like dying.

Chrno: Nah... me neither.

Remington: Ahem!

Rosette: (blushes slightly) But what were we doing again in the stream...

Chrno: (blushes too) Don't really know... but... I kinda liked it... I think...

Remington. AHEM!

Rosette: (blushes deeper) Yeah... me too...

Remington: FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, WILL YOU TWO STOP BEFORE I HURL!

Chrno: Oh hi Remmy. Didn't see you there.

Remington: (rolling eyes) Figures... you two are just too busy ogling each other, and that whole talk about what you did in the stream... please, you did that practically whenever you had a moment to spare when you were alive, so why should you stop just because you died.

Rosette: (sputtering and blushing furiously now) WHAT? NO... WE... YOU... you've been PEEKING you PERVERT!

Remington: (smirking) What are you talking about... I was referring to the chase I saw... what are you saying...?

Rosette: I... uhm... I... (help me out here Chrno)

Remington: (looking suspiciously innocent) Besides peeking is not really my thing, you know. I'm a real angel.

Chrno: Yeah and a fallen one at that. Doesn't really make you one of God's most pious children.

Remington: Hmm... no... maybe I'm more like a sinner.

Chrno: So that's two of us then.

Rosette: Don't forget about me, I've done plenty of things which could qualify me as a sinner too.

Remington: I'll say.

Satella: Hi guys, I couldn't help hearing you talk about sinners.

Chrno: What of it?

Satella: Well I know this wonderful sinful place we can go to, they've got live jazz music, booze by the gallon, and plenty of other sinful people having fun.

Rosette: Uhh... a speakeasy?

Satella: That would be the term.

Remington: I'm in. I could definitely go for a drink.

Rosette: But what about Chrno, can he get in, doesn't he look a bit... young for that kind of place?

Chrno: It's alright. I'll just switch to my adult form (switches form).

Satella: Won't you be stealing Rosette's life then?

Chrno: That's right I almost forgot (grabs into pocket and presents a little brass key).

Remington: What's that?

Chrno: Something I've been looking for... can I see that? (grasps pocket watch, opens a little lid in its rear side, inserts key, turns)

Rosette: Oh... that's neat... it rewinds.

Satella: Smart. Where did you get that.

Chrno: Some kind of flea market, an old gypsy woman was selling a bunch of junk.

Rosette: A gypsy?

Chrno: Yeah, you know the type... old, wrinkled, hunch-backed, really annoying heavy German accent like a cheap nazi movie...

Azmaria: Uhmm...

Rosette: Oh hi Azzy. What's up?

Azmaria: Well... I kinda...

Remington: Yes?

Azmaria: I uhh... heard...

Chrno: You... heard?

Azmaria: Yeah... ehh... where you were going...

Satella: And?

Azmaria: I... just... wanted to...

Rosette: What?

Azmaria: I... ahh... wanted to ask...

Chrno: Seriously... just spill it already.

Azmaria. Well... Can I come?

Satella: You know... I don't really think that's a good idea.

Azmaria. (firmly) Why not?

Satella: Frankly, I think that you're too young to get in, you see if Chrno didn't switch form he wouldn't be...

Azmaria: IT'S NOT FAIR!

Rosette: Uhh... Azzy...?

Azmaria: WHY are only ADULTS allowed to sin?

Chrno: Well... technically... we aren't...

Remington: And just who do think you're fooling now, Chrno?.

Azmaria: And I'm NOT a child anymore! I'M ALMOST THIRTEEN!

Rosette: Don't worry Azzy... you can come, just... not quite yet...

Azmaria: But I NEVER get older, unless somebody actually WRITES me older.

Chrno: True... but...

Azmaria: Instead YOU are ALL going out to have fun, leaving ME here to ROT ALL BY MYSELF!

Satella: Well... Joshua will still be here (winks).

Joshua: Hi Azmaria wanna see my new drawing, it's about a girl and a demon and a giant penguin who all go for a picnic in an enchanted forest and then aliens with machineguns and robot warriors shooting death rays from their eyes show up and...

Azmaria: ARRRGGHHH... GET AWAY FROM ME YOU BABY!

Joshua: I'm sorry... you don't like it? I can make another one about...

Azmaria: (Pulls own hair) I can't BELIEVE how many people think I'm supposed to end up with a complete RETARD!

Rosette: Hey... that's my brother you're talking about... cut that out, will ya?

Azmaria: DON'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO! YOU'RE ALL TREATING ME LIKE A KID! I'M GONNA STAY TWELVE YEARS OLD FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE! WAAAAAHHH! (disappears Road-Runner style)

Chrno: Whoa...

Rosette: Damn...

Remington: Shit...

Satella: Think it's something with the age?

Remington: Probably...

Chrno: Yeah... And I can tell you that it's only gonna get worse from now on...

Rosette. (glaring daggers) And just what the hell is that supposed to mean?

Chrno: Uhh... (whoops did I say that out loud) nothing... just... well... saaaaayyy... about that speakeasy... shouldn't we be going... time's wasting you know (begins to walk).

Rosette: CHRNO!

Chrno: Eh... lets talk about that some other time... like after we've had a drink... or twenty...

Satella: I bet that will turn out fine...

Remington: (whispering) You really think that it's wise to... discuss that... after she's gotten drunk?

Chrno: (also whispering) Yeah... her aim gets awful...

Remington: (whispering very inconspicuously) And what about your ability to dodge?

Chrno: (whispering even more inconspicuously) Don't worry... I can drink like a demon you know.

Alright, lets leave them to the drinking and fighting. My reasons for writing this whole story was primarily because I believed the ending to lack a bit of closure. Protagonists dying is of course sad and all, but that does not make a bad ending. It is the indication that nothing turns out right for any of them, whereas Aion's plans to remake the world proceed unimpeded, which to me implies that every effort made was futile – not really the most inspiring message. This story makes the idea of a second life plausible, and I've been thinking about writing a reincarnation fic to set a few things right, but my need for continuity required that I first 'paved my way' so to say.

So now you know what my next project will be. Till then please leave me a review, I ended up putting a lot of time (partly due to my own computer still not working) and effort into this chapter and I would really like to know what you think of it.


End file.
